A/N: Hello. This is my first fic, and as I have never written anything for anyone but myself…well…you’ll find this typical D/G :) Anyway, this doesn’t really have a plot, or a point, really. It’s not even categorized as fluff. Anyway, if it’s horrible, feel free to let me know, and I’ll hide in a closet until I come up with something better.

He’s Staring Again
By: TurningLeft

He was staring again. She could feel the blood pumping into her cheeks and the hair rising on her neck. Her brother looked at her curiously, but those eyes were burning onto her back. Across the Gryffindor table, Hermione peered up from over her textbook, pinning her with that all-knowing stare. It took about 30 percent of her self control to not blurt out her secret, 20 percent not to run out of the Great Hall, and 50 percent not to turn around and stare right back at him. He was doing it just to unnerve her, she knew. And right about now, with two of The Wonderful Trio looking at her blushing face, she really wished that he would just stop!

Hermione leaned over the table and asked her, “Ginny, are you alright?”

Ginny stared back, panicked.

“Fine, of course.”

Fake smile plastered on expertly, she began to nibble on her food again.

The silence went on. Then Hermione began to chat with Harry beside her, Ron with Lavender, and the attention was drawn away from little Ginny Weasley. And he was still staring. It was amazing no one had found them out with him being so bloody obvious. With the pretence of looking through her bag, she turned to the side and glanced his way. There he was, smirking for all he was worth; knowing just what affect his sexy look was doing to her. What had she expected him to do? He was acting just like the smarmy git that he was. Why did she put up with him again?

Thoughts beginning to stray, she placed her chin in her hand and sighed. There was no way that any friends of hers could not tell what was going on. The Trio didn’t really care; they just liked to shove their noses in other peoples' business. Well, she had a whole other plane of existence her dear brother couldn’t dream of. Ginny didn’t have many friends in Gryffindor, but she did in Ravenclaw and Slytherin. She thought the whole house system was ridiculous anyway. Nothing could tell what sort of person you would be when you were eleven years old. Ginny was living proof of that, as the change in her from eleven to sixteen was vastly different.

His eyes had strayed. The burning was gone. Even knowing that she should be happy with that, she still couldn’t keep the disappointment from flaring up. What had stolen his attention? She turned around, leaning her elbows on the table with her back against the edge; legs crossed at the ankle, and let her eyes roam the hall casually. And there he was, with that dog Greengrass hanging on his arm. She let her body lower a bit, and her chest stick out more, and his gaze was drawn back predictably. She glared. Her look promised consequences if he did not remove himself from that witch immediately.

Between the two tables, Ginny saw Luna smile behind her glass as Draco shook off Daphne’s arm. Ginny didn’t have anything against Daphne, really, but marking territory was marking territory. Besides, it was nice to have some control over a boy notorious for his disregard.

She shared a look with Blaise Zabini, another friend, sitting next to Draco. Draco had begun to eat again (innocently, of course) but Blaise was whispering something to Draco that was obviously bothering him. Blaise smirked. ‘Must be something they taught in the common room’, she thought, not for the first time. But Draco’s was still sexier. Then Blaise winked and she winked back, knowing he was poking fun at her beloved, ‘whipped’, boyfriend.

“Who are you looking at, Ginny?” came an unexpected voice from across the table. She casually turned her head to the side and saw green eyes focused at her over thick, round glasses. “Luna and I are learning to lip read. I’m pretty sure she’s saying something about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Her father found one last month, you know,” she told him coolly. The lie slid easily from her lips. Harry quickly pretended to be distracted by something Parvati said, clearly trying to avoid that conversation. Ginny mentally patted herself on the back. Close one.

She looked over at the Slytherin table again, and this time Draco was glaring at her. Someone was jealous. Ginny looked at him innocently, and then licked her lips. He looked at her intently, and glanced towards the door. She shook her head slightly, and turned around to sit properly. She thought of talking to Harry again, just to rile him up, but decided against it.

She heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Draco himself approach her. Her eyes widened and she turned around, facing the table again. He stopped behind her and said loudly, “Granger, there’s a Prefect meeting tomorrow at six. Dumbledore just gave notice.” Hermione nodded absently. But as Draco leaned over the table to hand Hermione a note, he slipped on hand down Ginny’s side slowly and into her pocket. She shivered at his touch and prayed no one had noticed. Then Draco smirked, again, and left.

Looking around to see if she had any unwanted observers, Ginny slipped her hand into her pocket and felt a piece of parchment move roughly against her fingers.

“Well, I’m off to the library.”

Hermione looked at her and for a moment, Ginny was terrified that she would ask to come too. Imagine going to the library with Hermione, especially when she had no intention of going there now at all.

As Ginny slipped out of the Great Hall, she carefully opened the note from its neat fold and read it quickly. OK, Head Boy’s room in an hour. She knew she wouldn’t be able to miss it. Why would she want to anyway?

As Ginny passed the statue of Florence the Flabbergasted, she felt an arm pull her to the side. A kiss pressed to the base of the back of her neck, combined with the feel of the warm, muscular chest and smell of the unique, expensive cologne, let her know immediately just who her attacker was. She knew that a certain person could not wait an hour.

The End

Disclaimer: Not mine. JK Rowling owns all characters (except Florence the Flabbergasted. That’s me, unfortunately).

Drop a review and be happy knowing you made my day. Sort of. Pleeeaaasseee?
The End.
TurningLeft is the author of 0 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 7 members. Members who liked He's Staring Again also liked 1149 other stories.
Leave a Review
You must login (register) to review.